Playing With Fire
by Selina K
Summary: An errand at Madam Malkin's turns into something else.  Harry/Pansy, Draco/Pansy.  Rated M for language and smexy times.  Thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing!


**Title **Playing With Fire

**Author**: Selina Kyle

**Pairings**: Harry/Pansy, Draco/Pansy

**Summary**: An errand at Madam Malkin's turns into something else.

**Disclaimer**: Just playing with Ms. Rowling's toys. Will put them back when finished.

**Author's Note**: Written quite a while ago and based off a piece of art that has since disappeared.

xxXxx

He needed to turn his back and just walk out. He didn't have to see this; the little sigh that escaped her lips as his finger trailed down her cheek. How her body curved into his as he slipped the cloak off her shoulder.

Harry stuffed his hands into his pockets and started to walk away, but it was too late; Draco Malfoy had already spotted him. Pinned under that spiteful gaze, Harry wished he'd fished something else out of the closet that morning. Something less ragged and worn.

"Well, look who's here, Pansy," Malfoy drawled into his wife's ear as he pulled her closer. "It's Scarhead, coming to get some new robes."

And just like that, the old anger came bubbling to the surface.

"Fuck off, Malfoy!"

"We're game if you are," he shot back nastily, one hand tightening on Pansy's shoulder while the other slipped down into his robes. Harry had to fight to keep the smirk off his face; Malfoy was predictable as ever. His own fingers were already brushing over smooth wood, the words on the tip of his tongue—

"Boys, boys, please. We're in public." Pansy slid neatly in front of her husband, effectively shielding him from whatever hex Harry was getting ready to throw. Her dark eyes flashed a warning look in his direction before she turned back to Malfoy, a calming smile on her lips. "Don't forget your appointment, Draco." She gently but firmly pushed him towards the store's entrance. "You'll be late, darling, if you don't leave now."

"But Pansy—"

Harry propped one shoulder against a wall and watched in undisguised amusement as Pansy skillfully maneuvered her husband out of Madam Malkin's shop. He hadn't seen her in weeks, not since the match against the Montrose Magpies. He wondered idly why she'd stayed away for so long, but he really didn't care to get into it at the moment. Malfoy was right for once; he did need new robes for Hermione's engagement party tomorrow night. With that in mind, Harry resumed his shopping, browsing through the displays in a haphazard fashion, only to be interrupted again.

"Just where do you think you're going?" A shrill voice demanded behind his back. Harry whipped around and stared at Pansy in disbelief. "What?"

She gave a long-suffering sigh before making her way back to where he stood, pulling various items of clothing from the racks as she went along. "Since you've so thoughtlessly driven my husband away-"

"Me? As I recall, it was _you_ who sent him away," he protested heatedly.

"The point is, he's no longer here, so you might as well take his place." Her words were clear and sharp, the sort of tone reserved for one so stupid. Harry's eyes narrowed in irritation but before he could respond, he soon found himself with an armful of robes, the changing room door swinging shut in his face as Pansy disappeared behind it. He stared at door, dumb-founded at her cheek, until the soft rustle of clothes brought him back to his senses. Well, he wasn't just going to stand there like a servant. Harry dumped the clothes carelessly on the floor and began to walk away when she called out.

"So who's the tart?"

Tart? What in God's name was she on about? Oh. Right. He knew that photo in _Witch Weekly_ would come to haunt him sooner rather than later.

"Ah, so you've forgotten her so soon? A pity…" Her voice trailed off as the door opened and Pansy stepped out, wearing one of the dear Madam's more intimate creations. Harry's jaw dropped open; her breasts were practically spilling out and the fabric was so thin that he could just make out the dark shadow between her thighs.

He quickly grabbed her arm before she could twirl again and tried to push her back into the changing room, hissing urgently in her ear. "What are you doing?" Unfortunately, Pansy wasn't being cooperative in the least, refusing Harry's gentlemanly efforts to salvage her modesty. "What's the matter? Red not as flattering on me as it was on that slag?" she asked him in a teasing tone.

"For heaven's sake, Pansy, you're indecent!" he exclaimed, eyes flitting around the store nervously.

"Oh please," she admonished him. "The store's practically empty. However, since you seem so eager to join me—"

At this she quickly dropped a step back and dragged Harry into the changing room with her. "Are you mad?" he whispered furiously but any resistance melted away as soon as she pulled him into a hungry, fierce kiss. He simply gave up, surrendering himself to the insistent caresses of her fingers against his denim-clad erection. He tried pulling out his wand; maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he could cast a Silencing Charm around them. But Pansy's hand snaked out to stay his, and when he pulled back in surprise, the wicked twinkle in her dark eyes convinced him to leave it alone. Instead, he muffled his groan against her throat, his hips grinding urgently against hers. "You're utterly shameless, Pansy."

Her pulse fluttered against his lips as she let out a low, throaty laugh. "And I thought that's what you liked best about me," she murmured against his ear, eagerly drawing his prick out from his jeans. Harry nipped the soft skin in response before trailing wet kisses along her shoulder. With his teeth, he slipped the strap down, baring a tight, pink nipple. He brushed his thumb over it, watching as the smug satisfaction on her face gave way to breathless wonder. Her grip on him tightened, causing him to thrust mindlessly against her warm hand. He couldn't last much longer; he needed to be inside her now. His hands skimmed over Pansy's hips, bunching up the delicate fabric until he could see the slick juices coating her thighs.

"Fuck me, Harry. Please…" Her voice, heavy with need, was enough. He lifted her in his arms and pushed her up against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist, wet heat teasing the head of his prick. A single, hard thrust and he was buried inside her, his eyes rolling back at the feel of her, velvet-hot and tight, around him.

"Yes, oh, yes…"

Pansy's nails dug hard into his back, each deep slide winding her tighter and tighter, until she threw her head back, her mouth opening in a silent scream. Harry still had the presence of mind to reach up and place his hand over her lips, making sure that no sound escaped her. With eyes closed, Pansy drew one of his fingers into her mouth, sucking hungrily on it as she rode out her orgasm. It was enough to send him over the edge, slamming his prick into her one last time and whispering her name over and over before he collapsed slowly to his knees, pulling Pansy on top of him.

As they lay together in a tangle of sweaty limbs, Harry could hear footsteps approaching the changing room. They were trapped! He looked at Pansy in alarm, but she only laid her fingers on his lips and shook her head, warning him to be quiet.

"Really, shoppers these days. Can't be arsed to put back things."

After a few more unintelligible mutterings, the footsteps receded away, taking with them the possibility of discovery. Pansy let out a nervous giggle as she slumped in relief against Harry, winding her arms around his neck before whispering, "They won't be back for a while. Care to go another round?"

xxXxx

"Here you go, Mr. Potter."

Harry practically snatched the package from the clerk's hands and mumbled his thanks before rushing out of the store, nearly tipping over the display of enchanted dancing shoes (no lessons needed!) in the process.

As he joined the crowd milling about Diagon Alley, Harry tried not to dwell too much on the broad grin pasted on the clerk's face. There weren't any revealing stains on his clothes and he made sure that his hair looked somewhat presentable. Instead, he chalked it up to the lacy, red slip tucked away under his arm.


End file.
